


touch me, save my life

by keskasi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, POV Victor Nikiforov, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smitten Victor Nikiforov, Tender Sex, Viktor POV, a WIP technically but each chapter is a standalone piece, more tags to be added oh boy, post ep7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:12:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keskasi/pseuds/keskasi
Summary: A catalogue of first times.





	1. Chapter 1

Viktor doesn’t like to say that their physical relationship “progressed.” Really, it just changed. He’d have been happy to just kiss Yuuri with no tongue and hold his hand forever, and thanked whatever higher power existed every night for letting him know Yuuri, hold Yuuri, love Yuuri.

Yuuri got sick of that pretty fast.

After the Cup of China, back in the hotel room, he had looked at Viktor and said, “I’d really like to kiss you again,” and then he had. Viktor had kept his lips chaste and light, gentle and trying not to seem over-eager, until Yuuri had pulled back, looking slightly dazed and just a little unsure. “Do you not...want to?” he’d asked.

“Of course I want to,” Viktor had said, blinking. His eyes felt dry, hot, and heavy. His mouth felt cold. He couldn’t help but look at Yuuri’s lips—so gorgeous, pink and slightly chapped. “Do...do you?”

Yuuri had studied him for a moment, then nodded. When he pressed his lips to Viktor’s again, he’d opened his mouth, just slightly, and caught Viktor’s bottom lip between his lips, like the softer cousin of a bite. And then Viktor’s mouth was open, and their tongues were sliding against each other, and Yuuri, still in his Japan jacket and slightly sweaty, was melting into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

They’d managed to separate so Yuuri could shower. Viktor had hoped, maybe, for a goodnight hug and kiss afterwards. Had expected Yuuri to curl up in his own bed, had even planned something sweet to say.

Instead, as Yuuri emerged from the bathroom, hair slightly damp, his eyes had flickered between the twin beds. His bottom lip, still slightly kiss-swollen, was caught between his teeth, and then he was walking towards Viktor, stretched out with a book on top of the comforter. Yuuri had paused at the side of the bed, fingers trailing against the white bedspread, and said, “I know the beds are small...”

“Yes,” Viktor said, immediately, and Yuuri had laughed.

Viktor fell asleep that night with Yuuri’s head on his chest, their arms curled around each other.

After that night, Viktor found himself in a beautiful parallel universe in which _Yuuri_ was asking _Viktor_ to sleep with him. At the onsen, after dinner, Yuuri had softly brushed their hands together and linked their pinkies, holding their hands close as they walked down the hall to their rooms.

Viktor didn’t blush often, but he could feel his face heating as Yuuri swung their hands, darting cautious looks at Viktor from the corner of his eye. At the door to his room, Viktor paused. Yuuri, though, kept walking, and their hands broke their fragile hold on each other.

“Oh,” said Yuuri softly, as his eyes darted between Viktor, the floor, and the door to Viktor’s room. “I was...hoping you would...”

Viktor’s heart felt fit to beat out of his chest. It was so much worse than after a long practice, or a run. His head felt light, sparkling with want, but. Yuuri was so, so precious to him. He didn’t want to misunderstand, to ruin this all by doing too much, too fast. He wanted to know where Yuuri was, so he could meet him there, instead of running ahead, alone.

“Hoping I would what?”

Yuuri glanced up at him through his lashes, clasping his hands together, fidgeting. Even in the dim, late-night light of the hallway, Viktor could see his face flushing, a beautiful red blooming over his cheeks.

“It’s just,” started Yuuri, voice soft and stumbling, “in China we...so I was wondering if you wanted to...” He paused, took a deep breath, and looked Viktor in the eye. “Do you want to sleep in my bed, Viktor?”

“Oh,” Viktor breathed, feeling blood pounding in his ears. “I would like that. Yes.”

So after brushing his teeth, he had burrowed into Yuuri’s bed, feeling soft and distant and very much like none of this was real. Surely it all had to be a dream—he could have fallen on the ice, or on a slick road in St. Petersburg while walking Makkachin.

But there was Yuuri, breathing warmly against Viktor’s neck, saying softly, “You can take your shirt off, if that’s more comfortable.” So Viktor had, and then Yuuri had put his head back on Viktor’s chest, sighing happily, hand coming up to splay over the frantic beat of Viktor’s heart.

“You’re so warm,” Yuuri said, and then pressed a small kiss to Viktor’s jaw, thumb stroking over his chest.

Viktor couldn’t help the way his arm, curled around Yuuri’s back, had squeezed. He wanted Yuuri to be as close to him as possible. He never wanted to let him go.

“Do you remember how I told you that you could call me Vitya?” Viktor asked, after a long moment of breathing together in the moonlight. Yuuri had initially looked panicked and refused, saying that Viktor was his coach, and he couldn’t possibly. Then, Viktor had looked at it as another rejection.

Now, he just wanted Yuuri to say his name.

“You can call me that, now, you know,” Viktor continued, when he could speak past the nervous lump in his throat.

Yuuri moved against him, like he was trying to get even closer, slinging a leg over Viktor’s thighs and sliding his hand up to touch Viktor’s cheek. He turned his face gently, craning his neck up so that they could look at each other.

Yuuri’s eyes were dark and beautiful, staring at Viktor with infinite gentleness.

“Vitya,” he echoed, as if tasting the word for the first time. Something in Viktor’s heart, which had only become more and more tender, like a raw nerve, during his time in Hasetsu, thrilled. Yuuri leaned up and kissed him, slow and warm. He laughed when Viktor caught his lip between his teeth, biting gently. “Good night, Vitya,” he said.

Viktor had wanted to lay awake, just in case this was all gone when he woke up, but he’d been lulled to sleep so, so quickly by the silky slow drag of Yuuri’s breath over his skin.

When he woke up, Yuuri was, if possible, _more_ on top of him. His face was jammed up against Viktor’s throat as he lay mostly on his stomach, half of his chest blanketing Viktor’s.

 

—

 

Now, they fall asleep together more nights than not. Viktor’s bed is bigger, and Makkachin usually joins them, so they usually sleep in the banquet room.

“I like your bed,” Yuuri says one night, wrapped up to his chin in Viktor’s expensive white sheets.

“Wait until you see the one in St. Petersburg,” he says, without thinking.

Yuuri gives him a weird look, but let Viktor switch the conversation to something inane, like food or dogs. Or food for dogs.

Most nights, when they aren’t too exhausted after practice, they make out. Viktor lets Yuuri initiate. It makes sense; Yuuri’s the one training, and he’s the one who’s going to be more tired. Yuuri’s the one with less experience, and the one more likely to be pushed, even accidentally, into something he doesn’t want, something he doesn’t end up liking.

It’s not like Viktor’s in a hurry, anyway.

“You’re such a good kisser,” Yuuri says, one night, as he pulls away from Viktor. His face is flushed, his eyes heavy-lidded, hair messy from the tangle of Viktor’s hands.

“You are too,” Viktor says, and Yuuri rolls his eyes and laughs. So Viktor pulls him close, kisses him again (and again), until Yuuri’s melting against his chest, nails softly dragging over Viktor’s shoulder. “How can you think you’re not good at this,” Viktor murmurs against Yuuri’s soft mouth, and Yuuri shudders, eyes dropping to Viktor’s lips. “I adore kissing you.”

Yuuri looks kind of out of it, hazy and red-cheeked and wanting, but he clearly tries to pull himself together as he says, “I know you’ve had—you know. Better.”

“Hmm,” Viktor says, letting his hands rest on the dip of Yuuri’s lower back. He pulls Yuuri up, so he’s lying on top of him, blinking down in surprise even as he nestles closer. “How do you know that?”

“You’re way more experienced than me, Vitya,” Yuuri says, like that explains anything.

“Sure,” Viktor allows. “So I know what I’m talking about when I say you’re good.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes _again_. “I could be better, though.”

“Mm,” Viktor says, letting his hands slide to Yuuri’s thick, gorgeous thighs, splayed out on either side of Viktor’s stomach. He doesn’t miss the way Yuuri arches over him a little more, a little closer, when he kneads at the muscle there. “I’d never discourage you from practice, darling.”

Yuuri grins at him, and Viktor really doesn’t think he’s doing it on purpose, but it’s sharp and hungry and seductive. He leans over Viktor, fingers absently playing with his hair, and asks, “Who do you think I should practice on?”

“Cruel,” Viktor murmurs, turning his head to the side to press a glancing kiss to Yuuri’s arm. “When you have me right here in your clutches, too.”

Yuuri kisses him then, slow and deep and slick and too short. He breaks off laughing, and Viktor tries not to look too disappointed. “My _clutches_ ,” he snorts, and rolls to the side, pulling Viktor along to face him, so he can push his nose against Viktor’s cheek and laugh.

Viktor feels like his skin is overheating, especially when Yuuri’s hand dips beneath the guest robes Viktor is wearing to skim around his waist.

Their kisses turn hungry and sloppy, warm and wet, and Viktor can’t help the little moan that escapes his lips when Yuuri’s tongue drags deep against his.

Yuuri huffs a breath that could be a laugh or a gasp, and then he shyly presses his hips against Viktor’s.

Viktor’s breath stutters, and he clings to Yuuri’s back as Yuuri rolls his hips, slowly and deliberately, his hard cock dragging against Viktor’s hip. He shifts and does it again, and this time his cock drags against Viktor’s, and a small, broken “ _ah_ ” breaks out of Viktor’s mouth.

“Okay?” Yuuri breathes, kissing down Viktor’s jaw to his neck, sucking and kissing lightly, hand rhythmically squeezing Viktor’s waist.

“Yeah,” Viktor manages, biting his lip against a moan and nudging his hips to meet Yuuri’s. Yuuri releases a harsh breath against his throat, and after that they’re rutting together, languid and slow and open-mouthed.

Viktor means to ask if Yuuri’s _sure_ , if this is what he wants, but Yuuri moves so deliberately, kisses Viktor so deep and thorough that he feels like he’s drifting away into the sea.

And then Yuuri’s breaking away from Viktor’s mouth to breathe shakily against his lips, open-mouthed and dark-eyed, and then Viktor’s breath stutters and he moans softly, stomach jumping as he comes. Into his pants. Like he hasn’t done since he was a teenager.

Yuuri’s hips gentle, until Viktor whines and scrabbles at him, and then he picks his pace back up, hips flexing faster and messier, and then his spine arches. He presses his face to Viktor’s oversensitive neck, says “oh,” very quietly, and then “f-fuck” as he comes between them.

There’s a moment of stillness, in which worry begins to claw coldly at Viktor’s heart, but then Yuuri is humming, hot mouth seeking out Viktor’s, and they’re kissing again as Yuuri’s hands roam all over his back beneath his robe.

“Was that okay?” he says, mostly breath, face soft and eyes clearly struggling to stay open.

Viktor nods frantically. “That was...so good, Yuuri. Amazing. How do you feel?”

Yuuri hums from somewhere deep in his chest, burrowing into Viktor’s arms and holding him close. “Really good,” Yuuri murmurs. “Sticky, though.” He presses a kiss to Viktor’s neck, then his cheek, then his lips. “I liked that a lot,” he whispers like a secret, smiling sweetly.

 _I love you_ , Viktor thinks with the force of a thunderbolt.

But he can’t say that. Too much, too fast, too Viktor. Yuuri doesn’t need to deal with the full force of Viktor’s feelings right now.

Instead, he gets a washcloth to clean them up. Yuuri clings to him all night, pressed close, and Viktor thinks, _soon_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor goes after his dreams. With his mouth.

As much as Viktor resolves himself not to push, not to ask for more than Yuuri is ready to give, he can’t help certain fantasies.

Once they start, Yuuri is like a heat seeking missile, except that the heat is Viktor and the missile is Yuuri’s hands and mouth and dick.

After the first time, Yuuri gets bolder and bolder, exploring with his hands and hips. Viktor learns that Yuuri likes to straddle him, likes to look at their cocks together, likes Viktor’s hipbones, likes Viktor’s hand on his cock and his mouth on his nipples, likes kissing before, during, and after.

Viktor wonders if Yuuri would like his mouth.

He wonders it a lot.

He wonders it when they wake up in the morning and Yuuri sleepily ruts against him. He wonders it when Yuuri sits on the bench after practice, flushed and sweaty as he unties his skates. He wonders it when they sit in the onsen together, when Yuuri lets him rub the soreness from his muscles and kiss his shoulders lightly. He wonders it when they tumble into bed together afterwards, Yuuri’s hot, needy mouth all over his face and neck and chest, sucking little love marks into his skin that he’ll press slender fingers against in the morning, eyes dark.

He wonders it so much that of course it sneaks up on him and pops out when he least expects it.

Yuuri is on top of him in bed, forearms braced above Viktor’s head, hips thrusting against Viktor’s stomach, his weight pressing Viktor into the bed in a way that just makes Viktor _hungry_. Viktor sucks on his neck, and Yuuri keens, clutching at his hair to keep him right where he wants him, and desire flashes bright and hot through Viktor’s stomach.

“You taste so good,” he says, breath coming in heavy, wet pants against Yuuri’s neck. “God, Yuuri.” He sucks a mark against Yuuri’s collarbone, and Yuuri’s hand spasms, nails scraping against Viktor’s scalp. “I want—”

He cuts himself off, biting at his own lip to keep quiet. He wants _this_. He wants whatever Yuuri wants.

“What do you want, Vitya?” is what Yuuri says, though, shifting down so he can kiss Viktor’s mouth, rolling his hips slowly. “Hm? I wanna know.”

“This is perfect,” Viktor says, because it _is_. He wants to be perfect for Yuuri.

Yuuri bites at his lip lightly and stops moving his hips. Viktor chokes back a groan of frustration.

“I want to make you feel good,” Yuuri says, eyes very serious and determined.

Viktor’s insides go tight, his mouth dry. “I want to suck your cock,” he forces out. His throat is dry and scratchy. He feels flayed open.

There’s a pause, and then Yuuri is pushing up on his elbows. “Really?” he asks, looking ridiculously surprised.

Viktor is sure he didn’t blush nearly so much before he met Yuuri. He can tell his face is flushed. He hopes that Yuuri can’t see it. That hope, however, is quickly squashed when Yuuri traces over his flushed cheeks lightly with a finger as he waits for Viktor.

“If you’re okay with that,” Viktor says finally. Yuuri still looks faintly skeptical, so he adds, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“ _Really?_ ” Yuuri breathes. His face is hot and complicated, and Viktor is legitimately worried he’s asked for too much too soon, but then Yuuri takes a deep breath and says, “If—if you really want to, yeah. Let’s—let’s...”

And then he starts kissing Viktor again, messy and urgent, and Viktor is swept away.

Yuuri rolls off of him, lying on his side, leg thrown over Viktor’s hips as they thrust together. Viktor wiggles down the bed, kissing down Yuuri’s chest as he goes, and Yuuri’s breath goes gratifyingly harsh, just from the press of Viktor’s mouth to his red, sore nipples.

Viktor lets his legs slide off the end of the bed as he kisses over Yuuri’s stomach, the sweet swell of his hips and the thickness of his thighs. He lands on his knees, and is just about to kiss over the soft inseam of Yuuri’s pajamas when Yuuri sits up, twisting a bit to reach up to the headboard.

He comes back with a pillow, and says, “Here, for your knees,” and hands it to Viktor, who takes it more out of shock than anything else. Viktor kneels down on it; it’s thick and soft, like all of his pillows, and he can already tell that his knees are going to thank him.

Yuuri’s hands cup his cheeks, guiding his face up so Yuuri can press a kiss to his forehead. Viktor’s hands clench on Yuuri’s thighs.

“You’re sweet,” Viktor says, feeling the ridiculous heat in his cheeks as he looks up at Yuuri, who smiles down at him, fingers toying with his hair.

“Not really,” Yuuri says, grinning. “But you won’t be able to show me how to land the quad flip tomorrow if your knees are sore.”

“Good thinking,” Viktor murmurs, canting his head to the side to nuzzle into Yuuri’s palm. Viktor feels like...there’s something wrong with his chest. With his stomach. He feels too full of something with no name; but he’s aching and empty at the same time.

He wants so badly.

And then his eyes fall to Yuuri’s cock tenting his pants, leaking a needy, dark wet patch at the head, and he can’t help the way he sways forward. Yuuri’s hands tighten reflexively in his hair, before he stutters, “S-sorry,” and releases him entirely, and really, that won’t do at all.

Viktor catches Yuuri’s palm and settles it back on his head as he lightly draws the tip of his nose up Yuuri’s shaft to press a soft kiss to the tacky fabric at the tip.

“I’ll tell you if you pull too hard,” Viktor murmurs, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Yuuri’s pants. He looks up at Yuuri through his eyelashes, well aware of his best angles and determined to use them to his advantage.

This is, he decides, going to be the best blowjob of Yuuri’s entire life. It doesn’t matter that Viktor’s not competing against anyone for the title; he still wants it, desperately, wants to show Yuuri how good it can be—how good _Viktor_ can be, for him.

Yuuri’s mouth falls open around his slow, heavy breathing, and he levers his hips up so Viktor can pull off his thin pajamas.

Viktor’s plan to be composed and focused goes right the fuck out the window when he sees that Yuuri isn’t wearing any underwear.

He was just—he wasn’t _prepared_.

“Sorry,” Yuuri says again, voice weak. “I just—I f-figured we would, you know, so I didn’t bother?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor whines. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, after a pause. He lets go of Viktor’s hair to fist his own cock. “Should I just take care of this then?”

It’s not like Viktor hasn’t seen Yuuri’s cock. Just last night, in fact, Yuuri had straddled one of his thighs and rubbed off against his left hipbone, face red and mouth shiny and round. But he’s never been quite so _close_ , he’s never clutched at Yuuri’s thighs as Yuuri drags a hand over his own cock, jacking the foreskin up and over the red, slick head, tracing around the crown—God—fuck—

“No,” Viktor says, and “wait,” and “let me.”

Yuuri huffs a laugh down at him, mouth quirked up at the corner, so utterly amused that it makes Viktor’s cock throb. He’s leaking horribly—he always does with Yuuri, so much that Yuuri usually laughs at him as he shucks off Viktor’s pants.

Viktor pulls the pajamas down to Yuuri’s ankles and off over his feet, throwing them somewhere behind him. Yuuri sits before him, bare and beautiful, cock hard and arcing up against his stomach.

Part of Viktor just wants to choke on it, and it is this part that carries him forward to mouth sloppily over the shaft, moaning.

“Ah,” Yuuri says, very soft, and Viktor jolts back into himself, takes a deep breath and tries to center himself.

Good. Right. He’s going to make this _good_.

He nuzzles at Yuuri’s shaft, laying kisses all along it, on the sides and underside and down to the soft crease of Yuuri’s inner thighs. He knows Yuuri likes when Viktor plays with his balls gently, so he runs his tongue over them, pressing light kisses everywhere. Yuuri’s feet move restlessly on the floor on either side of Viktor’s knees, toes curling and legs shifting.

“How do we feel about teeth?” Viktor asks, making sure his breath puffs over Yuuri’s reddened, sensitive head.

Yuuri blinks down at him, face slack. “Uh,” he says. “I don’t know?” Viktor kisses the tip of Yuuri’s cock, darting his tongue out to lap at the beading precome, and Yuuri’s thighs clench. “Just...try whatever. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”

Viktor drags his teeth very, _very_ gently over Yuuri’s foreskin, and Yuuri’s leg kicks out immediately, a strangled, surprised groan clawing out of his chest. Viktor hums and pulls away, lays his head against Yuuri’s thigh.

“Promise?” he asks, sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

Yuuri rolls his eyes, ruffling his fingers through Viktor’s hair.

“You know,” he says, “For someone who wanted to suck my dick, you move pretty slow.”

“I’m savoring it, darling,” Viktor says. “But if you insist.”

And then, as Yuuri’s eyes widen slightly, he opens his mouth and sucks at the tip. He tongues at the ridge, and sinks down onto the shaft, letting the wet heat of his mouth envelop Yuuri where he’s aching and needy.

He doesn’t bother trying to deepthroat him; it really _has_ been a while, after all, which he realizes with a cough when he takes Yuuri too deep, too fast, and Yuuri’s thumbs stroke gently over his cheeks as he pulls off to breathe.

After that, he’s more careful, working his tongue, hollowing his cheeks, knowing that his lips must look beautiful and obscene around Yuuri’s length.

Yuuri makes gorgeous noises. He thought he’d discovered the whole of them, but he should really know better than to think he knows all of the wondrous surprises that Yuuri holds.

He moans softly when Viktor tongues at his slit, lapping up the salty taste of him, closing his eyes because he’s _wanted_ this so, so much. He makes aborted little whines when Viktor massages over his balls as he sucks, bitten-off sounds of pleasure that electrify Viktor from his chest to his dick.

“Ah, oh my God,” Yuuri keens, and Viktor wonders, if they weren’t surrounded by the thin walls of the onsen, how loud he would be. “ _Vitya_ ,” he whines, his knees pressing against Viktor’s shoulders like he’s trying to curl up into himself. “You—you’re so—” He breaks off to breathe harshly when Viktor sucks particularly hard, hollowing his cheeks and looking up at Yuuri with slightly wet eyes. “You’re so good, Vitya, f-fuck,” he says, voice thready from how hard he’s trying to keep quiet.

Viktor’s hips jolt at that, and he has to pull off of Yuuri’s dick—God, his _perfect_ dick—to breathe. He looks down at himself, and, yeah, he’s managed to soak through his pajamas, a large dark patch standing out against the light grey, even through his underwear. He glances up at Yuuri to find him also looking down at Viktor’s greedy, leaking cock, eyes dark and hungry.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, feeling urgent as he watches Yuuri lick at his bitten lips, eyes heavy like a touch on his cock. “Yuuri, can I touch myself?”

“I—” Yuuri starts, eyes flicking to Viktor’s face, eyebrows creased in confusion. “Y-yes, of course?”

A soft groan of relief escapes from Viktor’s mouth as he reaches down under his pants to fist his cock. He’s slick all down the length, and his hips jerk as he squeezes his shaft, kissing open-mouthed over Yuuri’s stomach, then pressing his nose to the cute little patch of black hair that frames his cock.

He strokes himself as he takes Yuuri back into his mouth, hips frantically flexing as Yuuri’s knees and calves and thighs squeeze around him. Yuuri’s hands pet Viktor’s hair, his fingernails scratching against his scalp, clenching hard when Viktor moans around him.

“I—I— _mmn_ ,” Yuuri pants, pulling at his hair. “I’m close.”

Viktor hums, looks up at Yuuri and hollows his cheeks in a way he knows make his cheekbones look divine. Yuuri’s mouth hangs open and loose, hair sweaty as it sticks to his forehead, glasses slipping down his nose. Viktor grips Yuuri with his free hand, stroking him fast and firm as he sucks hard at the head.

It’s only a few more bobs before Yuuri’s stomach jumps and he bows forward over Viktor’s head, feet coming clear off the ground as he folds his whole body around Viktor. His cock is hard and hot and straining in Viktor’s mouth. “Ah, ah, _ahhh_ ,” he pants, and then he comes with a broken little sound, body quaking.

Viktor closes his eyes and swallows down his spill, suckling at him through the aftershocks that make his stomach clench. He slicks his hand over his own cock, fast and hard, as Yuuri’s muscles slowly go lax and he leans back and away.

Viktor wishes he wouldn’t. He wants Yuuri around him and in him forever.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, because it’s all he’s really thinking. Yuuri looks at him with wide, soft eyes, and reaches out slowly to cradle Viktor’s face, wiping the spit and come from his swollen lips. “Yuuri, I—” he starts, breaking off in a moan when Yuuri’s finger traces the seam of his lips.

“Shhhh,” Yuuri says. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes very dark and very intense. His hands are gentle on Viktor’s face, and Viktor feels like Yuuri’s hot palms are the only things holding him upright. He feels boneless and aching and he wants—he wants—

“You’re so hot,” Yuuri breathes, like he can barely believe it. And then again, “Shhhh, shhh,” hands smoothing through Viktor’s hair, which is when Viktor realizes he’s making small, broken cries on every exhale.

He flicks out his tongue, reaching for Yuuri’s fingers, and Yuuri, eyes widening, traces over his mouth again. This time, though, he dips a finger past the plush, wet swell of Viktor’s lips, and Viktor sucks on him gratefully. He can feel his eyes wanting to roll back in his head, so he slams them shut, and then suddenly all the pressure and heat building in his stomach and cock becomes too much, and he comes with a long groan around Yuuri’s beautiful finger.

He slumps sideways against Yuuri’s thigh, breathing through the delicious feeling of bonelessness and warmth that overwhelms him. Yuuri’s finger slips out of his mouth, which is unfortunate, at least until Yuuri’s hands begin to pet through his hair, over his cheeks, down his neck. He sighs happily, rubbing his cheek against the soft hair on Yuuri’s thigh.

After he feels the euphoria ebbing away, he presses a kiss to Yuuri’s thigh and sits back up, which is when he realizes he came in his pants. _Again._ Honestly, he might be a little desperate, but he should be able to remember to take off his damn pants.

That doesn’t really matter, though, because Yuuri is looking at him with that soft, open expression of happiness and wonder that lights Viktor up inside. Viktor wants to kiss him and hold him, but his underwear is sticky and his mouth probably tastes like come.

“Let me just wash out my mouth,” he says, smiling as he starts to shift onto his feet, but then Yuuri’s hands are pulling his face up, and then Yuuri’s mouth is on him, open and hot.

“Mmph,” Viktor manages, before Yuuri’s tongue is licking into his mouth, hands braced on Viktor’s jaw and fingers cradling the back of his head. Viktor clings to Yuuri’s shoulders, his throat and his cheek, because he feels about ready to float away.

“Is that what I taste like,” Yuuri murmurs, into the space between him, kissing Viktor again before he can answer properly. “Mmm,” Yuuri says. “Weird.”

“You taste good,” Viktor says, when Yuuri’s kisses turn to chaste pecks, and, eventually, to kisses over his cheeks and forehead and to each of his temples.

In response, Yuuri giggles, and it is the most adorable thing Viktor has ever heard.

“Sorry,” Yuuri says, standing up and helping Viktor to his feet. He sways up on his tiptoes—God, so adorable—and secrets another kiss to the corner of Viktor’s mouth. “You must be uncomfortable,” he says, and then he brushes his hand against the wet patch, cold now, on the front of Viktor’s pants.

“It’s okay,” Viktor says, because really, between a little cleanup and kissing Yuuri, the choice will always be clear.

Yuuri accompanies him to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for him and watching closely, despite the flush in his cheeks, as Viktor steps out of his pants and underwear and cleans himself up. He’s reaching for another pair of briefs when Yuuri wraps his arms—lean but muscular and warm—around Viktor’s waist, toying with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Can I?” he asks, pulling up the bottom of the shirt.

His stamina isn’t as good as Yuuri’s. He can’t get hard again this soon, but God, the way desire throbs through his veins makes him wish he could.

He grins and raises his arms, and Yuuri pulls off the shirt and immediately plasters himself against Viktor’s back, kissing over his shoulders, hands unabashedly feeling up his stomach.

“What’s gotten into you?” Viktor asks, chuckling and leaning his head to the side so Yuuri can mouth over his neck.

“I just really like you,” Yuuri returns easily, like he can just _say_ things like that and not utterly destroy Viktor. “You wanna go back to bed?”

“Yeah,” Viktor says, letting Yuuri bite one more sucking kiss into his skin.

Back in bed, Viktor curls around Yuuri like a moth around a flame.

“Was that okay?” Viktor asks eventually, after playing with Yuuri’s hair—longer than when he arrived in April—for several long minutes. “Did you like it?”

Yuuri snorts. “Please,” he says. “You know you’re amazing.” He leans up to kiss Viktor again, which, as always, devolves into multiple kisses. “It was really good, though. You’ll have to teach me how to do it,” he says, voice lower and richer all of a sudden.

Viktor shivers. “You want to?”

Yuuri nods, and Viktor feels like he’s _everywhere_ , touching Viktor’s hands and chest and legs and face. “I, um—I like making you feel good,” Yuuri admits, nuzzling into the side of Viktor’s head. “You get so wet.”

“I know,” Viktor says, a little drily, because he’s still slightly annoyed at his inability to be the least bit subtle around Yuuri. Honestly, watching him practice the Eros routine has turned into an exercise in trying not to ruin his pants. He’s taken to bringing an extra pair to the rink as a precaution.

“It’s really hot,” Yuuri whispers, hand squeezing Viktor’s bicep, and wow, there it is: Viktor’s ready to go again. Yuuri pulls away slightly to look at Viktor, face so sweet and dear that Viktor’s whole body aches. Yuuri opens his mouth, closes it, and then a light blush starts up on his cheeks and he glances down, clearly sees Viktor’s growing erection, and colors further. “It’s just—you, um, really like this, huh?”

“I really like _you_ ,” Viktor says, echoing Yuuri’s words.

Yuuri grins so wide it looks like it hurts. “ _Vitya_ ,” he says, and throws his arms around Viktor, pulling him close.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Viktor says, tucking his face close to Yuuri’s, breathing him in, hands roaming restlessly over his back. He feels like he can’t do _enough_ to be close to Yuuri. “Especially when you smile.”

Yuuri pulls away just to smile brilliantly at him, like he had after his free skate at the Japanese qualifiers. Wide, uninhibited, pleased, focused on Viktor and Viktor alone.

“I guess,” he says, “you’ll have to keep making me happy then, huh?”

Viktor’s chest swells with the knowledge that he makes Yuuri happy. That Yuuri’s inviting him into his life, opening his arms to him.

“I plan on it,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now ya'll know where my nsfw blog url comes from #slicktor
> 
> thank you for the sweet comments!! it's honestly so encouraging and lovely to know that ppl enjoy anything i write? it makes me emo <3
> 
> next up: yuuri reciprocates. will it be good? or bad? it doesn't matter because viktor is easy


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri returns the favor. Wow~

Yuuri, Viktor finds, really likes having his cock sucked. Of course, in Viktor’s experience, most people do. But the way Yuuri’s eyes go all dark and heavy, the way his body goes loose and flushed—it’s something else.

So Viktor isn’t surprised, but he’s certainly delighted. Yuuri has a  _ great _ cock.

One night after Viktor sucks him off, messier than he’s let himself be before, Yuuri pulls away mid-make out, face very determined despite the loose spread of the rest of his body.

“Can I go down on you?” he asks, as his hand continues lazily stroking Viktor’s cock. He smiles when it twitches and leaks, his face genuinely excited. “Is that a yes?”

“Yeah,” Viktor breathes, and then pulls him close to kiss him again, because  _ God _ . How did he get so lucky? Yuuri smiles into the kiss, teasing his hand over Viktor’s shaft and balls, and then he pulls away and scoots down the bed until he’s braced on his elbows over Viktor’s dick.

Viktor is expecting a little hesitation, maybe, but Yuuri immediately starts nuzzling his nose and cheeks against Viktor’s thighs and stomach, brushing tantalizingly softly against the hard jut of his cock.

“You’re so smooth,” Yuuri says, and hums happily as he noses at the soft skin at the base of Viktor’s cock.

“You like it?” Viktor asks, smiling, because Yuuri looks so adorable, pressing little exploratory kisses all over Viktor’s cock. “The hair grows a little in between waxes.”

(He may have scheduled an  _ express  _ appointment when they returned from China. Maybe. Possibly. He just wanted to look his best for Yuuri, on the off chance.)

“I’ve seen,” Yuuri says, eyes a little mischievous as he peeks up at Viktor, who finds himself suddenly breathless. “What, you think you’re the only one who checks people out in the onsen?” He laughs and kisses the thin skin right at the crease of Viktor’s thigh. “Looks nice with or without hair.”

His tongue darts out, all of a sudden, and laps gently at the precome leaking from the slit. Viktor’s cock jerks, bobbing right in front of Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri looks very pleased with himself. Yuuri’s lips are shiny from all the precome Viktor can’t control at all. “All of you looks nice,” Yuuri sighs, and Viktor feels his cheeks go hot. Yuuri glances up at him, and, God, rubs his cheek against Viktor’s slick shaft, leaving his skin all shiny. “You don’t mind that I’m not...uh, you know. Do you?”

Yuuri’s cock is framed by a cute, well-trimmed little patch of curling black hair that tufts all soft and sweet over his balls. He has sparse, soft hair on his thighs and calves and none on his chest (Viktor is still horrifically jealous over this—it takes regular visits to a waxing salon to keep his own chest smooth, even after years of waxing).

“Hmmm?” Viktor feels like he’s losing the thread of the conversation, especially when Yuuri licks his lips. “Of course not,” he manages. “You’re beautiful, darling.”

Yuuri smiles. “I think I’d like to try waxing, maybe, though.” He licks a long stripe over Viktor’s balls, around the base of the shaft, and down the crease of one thigh, then the other. Viktor maybe stops breathing. “You’re so soft.”

“You’re killing me, Yuuri,” Viktor whines, as Yuuri sweetly kitten-licks over the tip where it’s poking eagerly out of his foreskin. He brings his hand up to rub at the foreskin, humming in satisfaction when he slides it down past the crown. And then he licks over the ridge, and then he’s opening his mouth and sucking gently just at the very tip, fingers just sort of playing absently with Viktor’s shaft, and Viktor suddenly realizes that he can’t see anything because his eyes have fallen closed, and he’s making sort of whiny noises.

Yuuri presses several sucking kisses, still incredibly, teasingly gentle and exploratory, down the shaft, and then licks his balls, sucks, oh God, “Oh God,” Viktor says, and then he swears in Russian and buries his face in the crook of his elbow.

“Hey,” Yuuri says, pulling off and tapping Viktor’s thigh. “You’re supposed to watch.”

“Ah, am I?” Viktor murmurs. “I might pass out,” he says, but unlocks his arm from across his eyes, fisting it in the sheets and shakily looking down at Yuuri, who smiles at him.

Yuuri, who then licks his lips, and slowly, achingly slowly, takes Viktor’s cock into his mouth.

Viktor doesn’t actually remember the last time he got a blowjob. It must have been—oh, two, three years ago? Maybe? So the wet, heated drag of Yuuri’s mouth over him makes him moan probably a little too loudly. And then Yuuri  _ sucks _ , and fuck, Viktor’s brains are going to leak out through his dick and it’s going to be terrible.

More than just how good a blowjob can be (very, Viktor thinks), it’s the fact that it’s  _ Yuuri _ —Yuuri’s eyes drooping closed as he takes Viktor a little deeper and moans softly, tongue sliding over the throbbing vein on the underside. Yuuri’s hand splayed on his thigh and his other hand playing with his balls. Yuuri’s clever tongue teasing him all over.

He’s close before he can help himself, can see spit and precome leaking out of Yuuri’s mouth, over his red lips, as he bobs, slowly and experimentally, building speed.

“You’re. Ah...” Viktor pants. He reaches down to run his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri moans around him again. Hot pressure mounts in Viktor’s stomach. “Very good at this.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, pulling off to smile up at him, a little shyly, a lot pleased. His lips are red and wet and slightly swollen. Viktor knows he’s staring. “I’ve been practicing.”

Viktor blinks, frowns. “With who?”

Yuuri gives him a weird look, confusion evident. “Just myself. While you do your nails and stuff.”

“You can suck your own dick?” Viktor asks, a little faintly because he’s  _ imagining  _ it. Yuuri is very flexible, after all. Oh, fuck.

“No,” Yuuri says, laughing a little even though there’s a faint flush on his cheeks. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh,” is all Viktor can say before Yuuri takes him in again, bobbing quickly, sucking hard, tongue all over the place until Viktor moans brokenly, and then Yuuri does the same thing again, and then again, and Viktor whole body feels narrowed to his dick and Yuuri’s mouth on him. “Yuuri,” he pants. “Yuuri.”

Yuuri pulls off with a wet pop, says, “Hm?” hand still working over him, face flushed and chin damp, and Viktor’s toes curl as he feels himself fall, spurting over Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri jerks in surprise as a stream lands on his cheek, eyes a little wide, but then he opens his mouth again and angles Viktor so he can spurt onto his tongue, and then he’s mouthing very gently at the head as Viktor shivers apart, cock jerking and come dribbling out of Yuuri’s mouth.

It’s good, so good and warm and gentle, and Viktor’s stomach jumps, hands clenching uselessly at the sheets and Yuuri’s hair as heat and pleasure pulses up his dick. When it starts to be too much, he tugs a little on Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri lays one last kiss to his wet, spent dick before crawling up the bed to lay on top of him.

“Was that okay?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor brings his arms around Yuuri’s back, holding him close and burying his face in his neck.

Yuuri laughs, petting his hair. “Vitya?”

“Mmmmph,” is about as much as he can manage in response.

They lay like that for a good few minutes as Viktor slowly comes down from the cloud of absolute bliss he’s found himself on. He noses up Yuuri’s neck to press sloppy, lazy kisses along his chin and lips, where he’s still all slick and salty with Viktor’s spill. Yuuri kisses back enthusiastically, humming and wiggling on top of him, rubbing their legs and chests together.

“So,” Yuuri says, when they break apart. “Good?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes. “Yuuri.” He cranes up to kiss him again, but Yuuri—cruelly!—laughs and turns away, so Viktor’s lips land against his cheek. “ _ Yuuuuuuri _ .”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, but drops a peck to Viktor’s lips that does nothing to satisfy him.

“Perfect, Yuuri,” he breathes. “That was so good. Wow.” He licks over Yuuri’s chin and lips like he’s starving, tasting himself and Yuuri’s skin. “Kiss me more before I die of pleasure, Yuuri.”

“You’re not going to die,” Yuuri mutters, but his cheeks pink and he looks very, very pleased, smile wide and brilliant. “It was really that good?”

“It really was, sweetheart,” Viktor says. “I’m very impressed.” Yuuri makes a sweet, satisfied little noise and finally, finally kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm....i wonder how yuuri practiced....
> 
> updates might slow down a bit from here! i've got the next section written though, and it's raaather long, so look forward to that! and if you are in dire need of content in the meantime, my nsfw blog has been pretty active on the writing front as of late.
> 
> as always, i get Emo over every comment/kudos/bookmark/etc. it means a lot (;﹏;) <3

**Author's Note:**

> just a sloppy little thing from a doc full of smut. mostly written to get a feel for the background i envisioned for a longer smut series (forthcoming). future chapters will be little smut scenes of other ~sorts~ of first times. i think bjs is next?
> 
> big thanks to my cheerleader/quick and dirty beta [wingchestr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wingchestr/pseuds/wingchestr)
> 
> this isn't the first smut i've written, but it is the first i've published so pls be gentle thanks


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